The Mystery Shopper & The Hot Tub by Helen E. Field

Author:Helen E. Field [Field, Helen E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781838269203
Published: 2021-01-21T16:00:00+00:00

18

Poison, Puke and Posh People

Jackie didn’t quite make it to the toilet.

The explosion came from her backside first, followed by projectile vomiting of such force that the bathroom window resembled stained glass.

Over in Romford, Martin had been on and off the toilet all night and used so much toilet paper he’d run out and resorted to folding bits of kitchen roll to make do.

For the second time in as many weeks, Dean held up Brooke’s hair as she retched into the toilet bowl. He was doing his best to hold in his own feelings of nausea, but after an hour he relented and vomited violently in the bathroom.

By 9am Dean and Brooke had received at least two dozen calls from friends saying how sick they all were and just wanted to let them know…you know…just in case it was anything they ate at the BBQ.

It was hard to escape the painful fact that the chicken drumsticks were almost certainly responsible.

‘I thought as long as the juices ran pink then they were cooked!’ exclaimed Dean.

‘IDIOT! They have to be running clear – that’s when you know they’re cooked. What’ll everyone be thinking? They’ll never come to one of our parties again!’

Dean was astonished that she could still get so mad in between bouts of vomiting and diarrhoea.

He picked up the phone to Jackie to ask for help with looking after Paige, who kept crawling into the bathroom to watch Mummy and Daddy put their head into the toilet. She tried hard to join in and stood with them in solidarity, trying to get her head over the bowl too. All they could do was keep batting her away. Dean was gutted when Jackie revealed that she, too, had fallen prey to the chicken drumsticks and was in no fit state to help.

‘No worries, Jackie. I’m really sorry it got you too.’

Dean sat ashen-faced, legs outstretched in front of him, arms hanging limply by his side.

One fucking chicken drumstick!

He realised that probably most of their friends would be in the same state, so it wasn’t worth asking anyone for help. How on earth were he and Brooke going to get through the day like this? They were struggling to look after themselves, let alone a one year old.

That Sunday was purgatory. Brooke and Dean yearned for it to be over. They’d put a playmat out with as many toys as they could find easily and simply placed Paige there in the hope she’d occupy herself and disturb Mummy and Daddy as little as possible. From time to time, Paige would pretend to be their Mummy and Daddy and clearly thought the whole thing was one long glorious game. They’d managed to bring in the dressing table set from Jackie, but Paige was far more engrossed in the wrapping paper, the ribbon and the cardboard box it came in.

Sunday drifted by in a haze of retching, puke, diarrhoea, groaning and attempts to look after Paige. The garden and kitchen both remained untouched. Brooke

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